


No Cause Is Lost

by nigoi



Category: Inazuma Eleven GO
Genre: Brotherly Love, Football, For ina11writingexchange Round Three, Gen, Mending Relationships, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26754895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nigoi/pseuds/nigoi
Summary: ( - if there is but one fool left to fight for it.)Naoto and Tenma become brothers. It's... complicated.
Relationships: Matsukaze Tenma & Wanda Naoto
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	No Cause Is Lost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gxldielockss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gxldielockss/gifts).



> hi, Gxldielockss!! i hope you enjoy this!!

When his mother dies, Naoto isn’t too surprised. 

Of course, he cries --- he loved his mother, dammit, he’s not a monster. She always took care of him when he was sick and brought him to school when she could. But. But the illness took her away too fast, and he had no delusions that she would survive. 

By the time the funeral comes, he’s too exhausted to cry anymore, and that allows him the time to think. What would become of him? There aren’t any close relatives, at least that he knows of, so he would have to live with a virtual stranger. Or maybe go to an orphanage.

Naoto doesn’t want to go to an orphanage. He can’t stand other kids at school time, so living with them… He won’t say it’s his worst nightmare, because his worst nightmare was his mother dying and that’s already happened, but it’s pretty horrible, the idea.

So, when he ends up in some distant cousin’s place, he’s not too pleased about it, but he doesn’t protest either. There’s simply no other solution to his problem, and at least this way he has something to eat. It’s a bit sad, for an eight-year-old to be so pragmatic, but at that moment, Naoto doesn’t think too much about it.

His world changes completely, but he still knows a few things, things that have been held true for all his life:

  1. Love hurts, because you eventually lose it.
  2. Ghosts exist, no matter what everyone says.
  3. There’s nothing like the food of a mother --- he still has the recipes, but it doesn’t taste the same even if he follows them to the letter.
  4. Pirates are cool.



And finally, although he hasn’t discovered it yet, and won’t until he meets a certain whirlwind:

5\. Football makes you unconditional friends.

His cousin is not so bad.

Granted, she’s not his _mother_ , who despite all her flaws cooked for him when he was ill and accompanied him to school even when he insisted that he was old enough to do it on his own, but she’s not the evil queen he kind of expected. He probably has seen too many movies.

And yeah, his cousin is always a bit distracted and looking at the phone, but she gives him things to eat and asks him about school and doesn’t ask about his mother. He kind of can see himself living here for a long time, even if the aches of his old house lurk in every corner.

But then Naoto finds out that she has a son, and all those visions for the future vanish as soon as they come. Another kid. A more-family kid. A son. Naoto is just a distant cousin, so if there’s any trouble between him and her son, it’s obvious who’s going to win in her eyes.

Naoto sighs. They’re going to meet today, on the start of summer vacation. He doesn’t have any expectations that it’ll turn out okay, but his cousin has, and so he will try. A little.

The kid is a little thing --- two years younger than him, according to his cousin. Not that Naoto can think much about him, because he’s mostly hidden behind the long skirt of his mother. She pats his head with a long-suffering smile, and the kid takes that as a prompt to speak. 

“Um, hi,” he says in a squeaky voice. More cheerful, he tries, “Hi! I’m Tenma, your new brother!”

Naoto’s chest stings at the moniker, and he doesn’t even try to keep his anger out of his face. “Don’t call me that,” he snaps. If the kid --- Tenma --- is frightened, that’s his problem, even if the consequences will probably land on Naoto because of favouritism. Ah, this life is going to be so difficult.

Tenma looks down, “I’m sorry… I won’t do it again.”

And ugh, the kid looks like a baby duck. Like an especially cute baby duck. Naoto can’t be angry at someone with that face for long, especially when they’re pouting. So, feeling a little guilty (much to his chagrin), Naoto mumbles, “Don’t worry. It was nothing.”

Tenma frowns, and jumps out from behind his mother’s skirt. With way, way, way more confidence than before (so much that Naoto briefly wonders if he’s been suddenly swapped by a clone, before deciding that nah, the kid is just weird), he says, “It is important! It matters if it made you sad!” And now, back to his unconfidence: “At least… that’s what mamma said.”

Tenma’s mom smiles as Naoto blinks in confusion. _Er… okay. This kid is_ so _weird_. 

Apparently (wrongly) realising he’s not going to die by Naoto’s hand soon, Tenma rides a new wave of confidence, and dares to smile at him, a little grin, cheeky in its innocence. He asks, “Do you play football?”

“Yeah,” Naoto blurts out, despite barely knowing the rules of the sport. There’s a ball, right? Of course there is, it’s called foot _ball_. If there’s not a ball, then the person who named it was stupid. 

Tenma’s eyes shine so brightly that it’s as if they’ve been switched by little suns. Silver little suns. “Do you want to play?!” he says, words tripping one over another in his haste. He’s vibrating in place.

And because Naoto is way too deep in this charade to back out, he agrees, and spends an entire afternoon pretending he knows the rules of a stupid ball game. Not that Tenma is that much of an expert either --- every time Naoto works up the courage to ask about any, Tenma looks at him quizzically and says, “It’s football,” as if that means something.

The sun falls, the night comes, and Tenma’s mom makes them stop playing, reminding them they need complicated things such as having dinner. She herds them into the backseat of the car, and Naoto has to live through the humiliating experience of someone else strapping his seatbelt.

By the time they get home, Tenma is already deep asleep, and, after lovingly brushing his hair out of his forehead, his mother carries him upstairs with surprising strength, considering how small she is. Then again, Tenma is also small, so.

Naoto walks after them, towards the bedroom. Tenma’s is next to his, so, when he enters, he can hear the rustle of sheets that is Tenma’s mother putting the boy himself to bed. Against his will, Naoto smiles. He turns it into a frown a second later, because he can’t be going mushy so soon. It’s plain embarrassing.

He’s tired --- that’s the explanation. That’s why he can’t control his expression and why he’s thinking that the afternoon wasn’t that bad and that Tenma wasn’t that bad and that this living situation wasn’t that bad. He isn’t turning soft from just one afternoon. He _isn’t_. 

Naoto hits the bed with a flop, and doesn’t even bother to get under the covers before closing his eyes.

He sighs, and buries his face in the pillow.

Even if he doesn’t want to admit it, facts are facts: today, he had fun.

Of course, because nothing ever goes to Naoto’s tastes, he and Tenma end up becoming friends, and then accepting (well, Naoto ends up accepting, to be precise) that they’re brothers. This is horrible. Unfair. He hates it. Why did he have to get saddled with the cutest little brother ever? Sadly, even he recognises that there’s no universe in which this could have ended any other way.

They don’t spend _that_ much time together --- everyday on summer vacation and other holidays, but not at all on the school season. As such, that leaves Naoto eight months or so of being an only child, and that suits him fine, until he starts to miss Tenma (that’s when he knows he’s in too deep) and suddenly, it doesn’t.

He finds himself asking three times a day _when’s Tenma gonna come home when’s Tenma gonna come home_ , and though the answer is always the same (a smile and a _you’ll see_ ), he doesn’t stop. It’s getting ridiculous. It has to stop, hopefully soon.

But it never does, of course.

Not that Tenma isn’t less… excited to see Naoto as Naoto is of Tenma. If it weren’t reciprocal, Naoto would personally dig a hole and let the ground swallow him whole. 

Holidays with him are… fun.

“How can you be so _bad_ at Samurai Eleven? Like, really, you are horrible.”

Tenma pouts, but he keeps smashing the buttons on his Nindo5, as if that’ll make him not fail resoundingly. It, of course, doesn’t help at all. “I’m not that bad,” he lies, like a liar.

“Yes. Yes, you are.” Naoto makes grabby hands towards the console, and, after sighing the saddest sigh to ever sigh, Tenma acquiesces it to him. 

He beats the game in an hour, and his smirk gets wider the more exaggerated Tenma’s pout gets.

Naoto kicks the football around, trying to get used to the feeling of it on his feet. 

They’ve already played quite a lot of times, but that was during the last summer, and hasn’t made the effort to keep his skill up, what with drowning in schoolwork and helping his cousin at home. He probably should have --- football isn’t a bad sport to pass the time. He hates to admit it, but… he kind of likes it. 

On the other hand, it’s not like he needs to be in his best state to play against Tenma. The guy is so clumsy that it’s a wonder he still has his nose unmaimed.

Right in that moment, Tenma steps on the ball instead of next to it, and plummets to the floor. Naoto bursts out laughing.

“No, put the eggs --- not like that! Okay, okay, we can still fix this, just don’t --- No!” Tenma sighs, and eyes the food as if it has betrayed him. “Not like that…”

The bento is ruined, and Naoto did it kind of on purpose. Hey, who can blame him? A Tenma trying to not be rude is amazing to see, mostly because he doesn’t usually have to try. Being nice is effortless. Besides, it’s not wasting food. Naoto will eat it no matter how bad it comes out, if only not to feel bad about it. 

Naoto pats Tenma in the back, and laughs when the kid turns those betrayed eyes on him. 

Naoto’s never watched ghost-investigation shows with anyone, but Tenma comes home a little too early and he’s too lazy and focused on the show to turn off the TV, and Tenma doesn’t make any offensive or dismissive noises, and that’s it.

By the end of the programme, Naoto’s ranting to Tenma about its inaccuracy --- “Who goes to catch ghosts with a vacuum?! Honestly!” --- and Tenma’s nodding excitedly, and actually listening. Huh… Weird.

(Matsukaze Shirogane softly walks down the stairs when the night has fallen and the kids still haven’t gone up to bed. It’s one a.m., and the little misters are going to get a big telling-off if she finds them up playing video games again.

When she reaches the sofa, though, she smiles.

Naoto and Tenma have fallen asleep one on top of the other, and they’re both clinging to each other’s shirt as if their lives depend on it. The nindo5 is hanging off the sofa by its charger, and Shirogane scoops it up before it can clatter to the floor and wake up the two sleeping angels.

She presses a kiss to Tenma’s forehead, and, after a second of hesitation, to Naoto’s too. The child needs all the love he can get, after all. She smiles at them again, taking her phone out of her pocket and snapping a couple of pictures for posterity, before picking them up and taking them to bed.)

“So Aoi - that’s my friend, she’s very cool! - comes back and hands me Sasuke.” The dog in question barks. “And we grin and I invite her to have dinner at the manor and she says she can’t but that she will another day - “

Naoto hums, only half-listening. He’s still half-playing-attention, of course, because this is still his… little brother (that’s still difficult to swallow; little brother, _wow_ ), so if he doesn’t listen, who will?

“ - and then another day arrives and when we’re heading to the manor, three of my classmates appeared, scowling at us, and Aoi and I were like, why are you scowling?, and they were like, because I’ve seen your faces, and Aoi was like, hey, don’t be mean!, and - “

“Wait,” Naoto says, now focusing his whole attention span on the conversation. 

“ - I was like, yeah!, and - huh? Okay.” Tenma blinks at him, smiling that confused smile of his, and Naoto hopes, for everyone’s sake, that he hasn’t heard what he thinks he’s heard. “What the matter?”

“Did you just say they… insulted you?” The words taste bitter in his mouth. How can someone insult Tenma? (Ignoring all of the times he himself has done it; he was an asshole then.) He’s like the nicest kid ever.

“Uh…” Tenma cocks his head. “Yeah, I guess. But it’s no big deal!” His hands flutter around as if to dispel the bad vibes, and Naoto lets him continue his story in relative peace. This time, the half of his mind not paying attention is focused on what to do with this new situation.

Because there’s no way anyone can wage war against his little brother and not have it returned.

Come next school year, Naoto is starting his career as a student in Inazuma town --- completely unrelated to Tenma, of course. He wouldn’t move his entire life just to protect one little kid. Psssh.

Naoto’s two years older than Tenma, so they don’t share any classes together and they’re only going to be in the same school for a year. Still, there’s the recesses and the going-to and going-home from school, and that’s more than enough to check if the kid is really being bullied.

The first week is okay --- Naoto joins the school’s football club, and doesn’t leave even when it becomes clear that the only one that’s there to play is Tenma, the rest too occupied gossiping and eating snacks. Well, Tenma and himself, now that he’s there. It doesn’t gain him the team’s affection, but since when has he ever cared about that? He has Tenma, and that’s enough.

But then, at the start of the second week, Naoto leaves Tenma alone to go to the bathroom, and when he comes back, there are three assholes surrounding him. Tenma, of course, doesn’t notice their ill intentions --- or prefers not to notice, who knows with him --- and is smiling nervously at them.

Naoto sighs. Of course Tenma can’t read the atmosphere. What was he expecting?

“Oh, hello, football freak! Fancy meeting you here!” the one in the center of the trio, apparently the leader, says as Naoto starts stalking towards them. Tenma doesn’t answer. “Not so brave without your little friend, huh? Were you so scared that you had to ask your cousin to transfer schools just to protect your little---”

“Hey, asshole,” Naoto says, and his fist collides with the leader’s face the moment he turns around, making him crash into the floor and Tenma to squeak in surprise. It wasn’t a hard punch, just a warning one, but the guy still covers his nose as if it was broken. 

Hah. He wishes.

Well, no, he doesn’t. But still: he wishes.

One of the other assholes kneels beside him, worried eyes turning furious as they shift towards Naoto. “What’s your problem,” she spits, although she must know who he is going by what the leader was saying before. Clearly, this trio had been waiting for him to look away from Tenma to strike.

Fuckers.

“ _My_ problem,” he says, giving them his best scowl, “is that you’re still here. What’re you waiting for? Scram!”

The girl glares at him one last time, before helping the leader up and obediently scurrying away along with the third member of the group. Their eyes are shining with barely contained fury, so, sadly, this is not the last time he’ll see them. Pity. 

With the immediate problem removed, Naoto turns to Tenma, who’s pursing his lips at him in a small pout. After the expression doesn’t lessen within five seconds, Naoto shifts ( _not_ self-consciously) and says, “What? I _helped_ you!”

(Okay, maybe he is a little self-conscious.)

The pout intensifies. “I _know_ ,” Tenma whines, and because he’s not one to bottle embarrassing feelings (see: every feeling but anger), adds, “and I love you, but… you won’t be here next year.”

Oh, yeah. That’s, sadly, true. Mmmm. Maybe he could get held back a year, and then another year, and that way he’d be with Tenma for all his classes and time at school. The only problem would be that his cousin would probably pull him out from Inazuma and make him return to Okinawa if his grades plummeted that much.

He’s thinking about possible solutions to that problem when Tenma, who’s apparently a mind-reader, exclaims, “No! You’re not getting held back for me!” Naoto’s expression remains blank. “I mean it.”

Naoto frowns. “But - ”

“Don’t worry,” Tenma says, in that determined tone of voice that makes you believe him without question. “It’ll turn out okay somehow.”

“You always say that,” Naoto points out. “But _somehow_ doesn’t cut it. How will it turn out okay? I think I know you enough to know that you’re not going to learn how to fight.”

“Of course not!” Tenma’s pout intensifies again, true to his character. Here is a guy who doesn’t like to hit even the TV when it’s broken. The definition of pacifist. “I won’t learn to fight.”

“Then what?” Naoto asks, a bit impatient.

Tenma grins, cheeky and smart and everything Naoto likes about him condensed in one expression. “I’ll learn to run.”

When they arrive home, Tenma video calls his mother and asks her to let him join running classes for a month, just to learn the basics --- and if that helps him to improve his football skills, nobody comments. Naoto, of course, joins with him. 

They settle into a routine unpredictable enough to not be boring.

Running lasts the promised month, in which Tenma soaks everything they teach him like a sponge. The coach tries to make him switch sports, but Tenma only has eyes for football, and, besides, Naoto was getting restless with the constant sameness. So, they leave, and return their attention again to football.

Football is unpredictable, especially now that Tenma has his newly acquired running skills --- sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes you tie, and sometimes you get hurt. And everytime he gets tired of it, he and Tenma devise some modification to the sport, like playing blind or doing handstands or whatever.

Their coach says Naoto has talent, but he doesn’t even try to tap into it. After all, if football gets too easy, he’ll get bored of it too. She sighs and shakes her head at his choice, but doesn’t force him into any extra training.

Eventually, though, the year ends, and with it, Naoto goes up a notch on the school system, into junior high. He was going to go to Raimon, to be with Tenma, but he watched the kid run his bullies into a door frame and laugh about it while his attackers clutched their heads in pain, so he guesses his protection isn’t needed anymore. 

(The thought leaves him feeling bittersweet.)

Besides, even if Tenma didn’t run as fast as he does, Naoto’s influence is sure to scare most people who try to mess with Tenma, except that trio of losers. And for them, Aoi is there to fight them for Tenma. The girl is vicious when she feels like it.

He wanted to go to Kaiou, though, because he’s heard they like pirates around there, and Naoto likes pirates too, so. That’s it, that’s where he’s going, now that he doesn’t have to worry about his stupid little brother.

That’s his first mistake.

Tenma cries in his graduation, even when he’d spent the whole day trying not to. For his sake, Naoto suspects, because Tenma had never been one to hold his emotions down, but Naoto doesn’t really like outward shows of feelings.

Still, he’s not going to recriminate his little brother missing him, so, when the kid explodes into tears when Naoto crosses the gates of the school for the last time, Naoto just sighs and envelops him in a hug. When they break it five minutes later, his uniform is full of tears and snot, but eh, who cares. He’s not going to wear it anymore, after all.

If the thought sits heavy in his gut, he’s not going to comment. 

(When he looks back at it, this is the most fun year he’s ever lived.)

The first day at Kaiou is a bit weird.

First, it turns out that not everybody there likes pirates, which is a damn shame and shows a lack of good taste. Fortunately, the football club mostly does. Fortunately for them, of course, because Naoto would have rebuilt the entire place if it didn’t cater to his tastes. Not joining the club isn’t a choice at this point --- he wants to play a match against Tenma once he joins junior high.

Naoto wants to see who will win between the two of them like he’s never wanted anything in his life.

Second, food at Kaiou consists mostly of fish and meat, which is horrible, because despite liking pirates, he despises fish. He’s going to have to bring food from home, but he doesn’t want to make Aki do it, so he’ll have to wake up at ass-crack in the morning to make a bento. Great. 

Oh, he also discovered something about an organisation controlling the results of football or whatever. Naoto doesn’t really care about the sport itself, but he does want to play honestly against Tenma, so this is kind of a drag. On the other hand, there’s no way Tenma will stand for this, so maybe he’ll disobey Fifth Sector (?) and they’ll play without tricks anyways.

Yeah. That’s probably what will happen, come to think of it. 

Still, it’ll be a hassle to play tournaments knowing the result. The perk of football was its unpredictability, and now, that’s gone. He’ll have to find a way to make it more entertaining, ‘cause there’s no way he’s gonna last two years with his main pastime being something exhaustingly boring.

That evening, when he arrives home, Naoto can’t bear to look at Tenma in the eyes. 

The kid had beamed at him the moment he crossed the door, having been there earlier because of his school being closer to the manor. They haven’t seen each other today (Naoto can’t walk him to school because Kaiou is super far from here and he just doesn’t have the time), so, arguably, Naoto should be ecstatic to see his little brother.

He’s not.

“Naoto!” Tenma says, and the smile is fucking audible. “How was your first day at Kaiou? Mine was great! Aoi and I met another girl, who was very nice! And our tutor is really kind and helpful and - and…”

Should he tell him about Fifth Sector? Probably. Is he going to do it? Probably not. Everytime he opens his mouth to cut Tenma’s rant off and break the news, he stops short. He can’t do that to Tenma, steal his innocence and passion away so soon.

Tenma keeps rambling on, and though Naoto tries to listen to him, he really does, it comes to a point when he can’t do it anymore.

“I’m going to bed,” he says, and starts climbing the stairs. It’s six p.m., but he’s drained.

“ - kicked the football - wait, Naoto! You still haven’t had - “ Naoto closes the door to his room, but he still hears Tenma’s whispered, “dinner…”

Naoto starts avoiding Tenma.

A year passes, and then two, and Naoto and his whole team manage to be SEEDs. Apparently, Naoto’s and Namikawa’s blooming talent was enough to impress their coach, a Fifth Sector agent, and the training they submitted them into worked to improve the rest of the team’s skills too, enough to make them into a complete Fifth Sector team.

Normally, Naoto wouldn’t care enough to take notice of it, but being a Fifth Sector team has its perks. One major perk, in fact --- most of the matches you play aren’t predetermined before starting. It’s one of the motivators that drives people to become SEEDs, along with the money if you ascend enough through the ranks.

That means that, if Tenma becomes a SEED, they’ll be able to play a fair match. Even if it’s been weeks since he’s last talked to his little brother, the desire to play against him is as strong as ever. Maybe even stronger --- he’s tearing their relationship apart just for this chance to play against him, after all.

Even as Naoto takes pride in his status as a football player --- perhaps even as a SEED --- there’s a pinprick in his heart with every step he takes, every time he thinks about his baby brother.

(He knows what will happen when Tenma discovers about Fifth Sector. There’ll be accusations --- “why didn’t you tell me?” ---, tears --- “you - you didn’t tell me!” ---, and, perhaps the thing he fears the most of all: betrayal. Tenma’s silver eyes will darken with horrible feelings, all because of Naoto, and he -

\- is a coward. He doesn’t want to be there, for that confrontation.)

He resolutely ignores it.

Knock, knock. “Naoto? Are you there?”

“...”

“I know you’re there! I saw you get in.” Knock, knock, more insistent. “Naoto. Please, answer me.”

“...”

“Naoto… I’m worried about you. What’s the matter?”

“...”

A sigh, deeply sad. “Alright. Talk to me if you need something.”

“...”

The fading pitter-patter of steps leaving.

Naoto takes to eating more at Namikawa’s that he does at the manor, to having sleepovers almost every night with his team, to answer his cousin’s calls with monosyllables, to not answer Tenma’s text messages at all, to trying not to care when they gradually stop coming. Eventually, it’s almost mindless, to keep cutting that steel forged bond.

By the time Tenma starts attending Raimon, they haven’t had a real conversation in a year. The last time they even saw each other was a month ago. Naoto couldn’t bear to see his brother’s happy eyes and know it would go away so soon.

Kaiou vs Raimon comes in the finals of the regional tournament.

It’s a stroke of luck, mostly. Kaiou was in the other group of the preliminaries, but, on the whims of the Emperor, they switched places with some other unimportant team. Naoto almost has a heart-attack when he gets the news, and his eagerness spikes.

He can’t wait to fight against the Wind of the Revolution. (Leave it to Tenma to get a name that weird in less than three months.) He can’t wait to fight against him without a predetermined result, because why would there be when one team doesn’t follow it. He can’t wait, he can’t wait, he can’t wait.

Instead of getting the result, Kaiou receives an envelope. In it, it’s written in bold, stark letters, KAIOU WINS. Despite it not being audible, the message is loud and clear, and Naoto practically shakes with unspeakable emotion.

“Arrrr you okay?” Namikawa --- Captain, he has to remind himself; he’s now the captain --- says, laying a comforting hand on Naoto’s shoulder. This captain schtick has been good for his empathy.

Naoto grins at him with too many teeth, and, shrugging the hand off, lies, “I’ve never been more okay in my life.”

The day before the match, Naoto lays in Namikawa’s sofa --- practically his bed by now --- and staring at the ceiling at ass crack in the morning. His stomach is churning, and he wants to pretend it’s eagerness, but at this hour of the day, there’s no lying to oneself. 

He’s terrified.

Terrified of Tenma’s eyes when they see him for the first time in months, the first time since he discovered about Fifth Sector and staged a revolution, the first time since Tenma discovered why exactly his older brother started avoiding him.

Terrified, because that match will make or break their relationship, and it will probably break it.

The morning of the match day, Naoto wakes up, a man on a mission, and goes to search for his old insult book, a prank gift from Aoi for his birthday three years ago --- the last birthday they celebrated together. After five minutes seatching, he remembers that it’s in the manor, and because he’s not going to go there on the fucking day of the fucking match, he has to settle with rhe Internet.

He spends the remaining of the morning looking for pirate insults; or, at least, the time in which Namikawa is not trying to get his attention, which aren’t rare but aren’t frequent either. Admittedly, he should have looked for insults before, but usually he prefers to not speak in matches. There’s no way he’s not going to speak in this one, though, so he arms himself as well as he can. 

He’ll be a bastard, and he’ll be the best damn bastard ever seen!

And so, when he’s stepping into the field and staring directly into his brother’s (is he anymore?) betrayed, sad eyes, he wears his smirk like a sword, when really, it's more like a shield. 

There are approximately five minutes until the match starts, so Naoto has to hold the tense stare-off, because while he doesn’t like to look at the consequence of all his questionable decisions, he also can’t bear to look away.

Tenma’s eyes are wide as saucers. Naoto keeps his narrow --- he doesn’t want his team to think there’s a thing going on here, other than normal enemy hate. But Tenma has never been discreet, and so it’s not long before a member of his team --- the captain, in fact --- asks him, “Is something wrong?”

The response is a bit delayed. Without lifting his eyes from Naoto’s, Tenma mutters, shaking his head, “No. It’s nothing.”

For some reason, something pangs in Naoto’s chest at that. The sight of someone else, someone who’s not him, asking Tenma about his wellbeing - it makes his stomach fill with something hot and spiky. 

And because feelings are bothersome in the middle of a match, Naoto turns around with a last lingering glance at his old brother, and pretends he’s playing against a stranger. 

At least, until he has to shoot the decisive shot towards him --- because apparently now Tenma’s a goalkeeper. There wasn’t any info about this in his files (courtesy of Fifth Sector), and Naoto knows for a fact that he wasn’t practicing the position a year ago, but the coach can’t be that reckless to put a newbie as the key player, right? Right?

Oh, who’s he kidding. Raimon’s coach is Endou Mamoru, a player who infamously ran out of the goal on the last moment of the FFI finals. Of course he’s reckless. It’s recklessness and a shitload of luck that has brought him where he is.

And while Naoto kind of admired that characteristic, he’s started to resent it now that he’s obligated to shoot at his baby brother with his keshin hissatsu. His baby brother, who doesn’t know any techniques to stop the ball, is going to have to receive the shot with his face. 

While his keshin’s presence is usually a comfort, now it’s damning. There’s no way any of them are escaping this, and after he carves his face in, Naoto doesn’t think he’ll be welcome back in Tenma’s life.

This has been what Naoto has spent the last three years trying to achieve, but now that it’s happening, he doesn’t feel all that enthused to go through with it. 

But this is the hand fate has dealt them, and so Naoto shoots his strongest shot and has to watch as his little brother---

\---pulls a giant keshing out of his back and slams the ball still what the _fuck_.

“Since when do you have a keshin?” Naoto blurts out, unable to make his jaw close. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck. 

(There’s something warm fluttering in his stomach, something like pride but a bit too fond to be just that. His baby brother has just stopped his strongest shot, and though it stings, it also makes him very, very happy.) 

Tenma grins woozily up at him, while his team roars and cheers in the background. “Since right now.”

He passes the ball to one of his teammates, but Naoto can’t find it in himself to intercept it. He just stands there, gaping, until Tenma’s grin turns into a smile way too fond for the two strangers they’re supposed to be.

Raimon scores a goal --- he knows because Tenma’s ees light up, not because he actually looks back to check --- and the only reason Naoto goes back to Kaiou’s side of the pitch is because of Namikawa grabbing his shoulders and pulling him.

“What’s _wrong_ with you?” Namikawa hisses.

Naoto doesn’t answer.

Kaiou loses. 

Kaiou loses and Naoto is disappointed and frustrated and bitter and so damn proud he could burst. His baby brother is the heart of a team of champions, and, after this, he has no doubts that they’re going to bring down Fifth Sector or whatever they damn please.

He’s kind of busy wallowing in his storm of feelings, but it all fades to the background when Tenma faints. Tenma fucking _faints_.

Thankfully, Naoto was looking at him once again and is there to catch him before his head hits the floor. He scoops him up in his arms and runs with his little brother to the infirmary, without bothering to think about what both of their teams will think. Fuck them, honestly, when his little brother has collapsed.

“Out of my way!” he snaps, and the crowd parts like Moses’s sea.

It’s fifty-six seconds at full speed to arrive at the infirmary, and another five to put him in the bed and explain to the nurse what happened. He’s just sinked into a chair at Tenma’s bedside when the door slams open, and Raimon pours in with varying degrees of concern in their faces, ranging from _very, but good at hiding it_ to _oh my god is he going to die_. 

Most of their eyes focus on Tenma’s prone body, pale and sweaty under the covers, but the captain’s and the ex-SEED’s glare at him suspiciously.

Because he’s not in the mood for any kind of bullshit, Naoto raises his hands like a caught thief and says, “He’s overexerted himself. Just some rest and he’ll be fine.” He’s just repeating what the nurse just said, but apparently from his lips it sounds way more implausible. For some damn reason. Really, this is Tenma fighting to save his football --- overexertion had to happen some time.

The thing is: everybody in his little brother’s team is looking at him like he’s the shit of Earth. He glares back.

Questions start, one on top of another.

“Who are you?!”

“Do you know Tenma?!”

“And whose damn fault is it, huh?!”

And a long list of etcetera.

Naoto opens his mouth to answer the first question, but then the rest barrel on, and he shuts it with a click and turns to stare at Tenma’s prone form, letting these people’s insistent questions wash over him.

Time passes agonisingly slow, until suddenly, it stops when Tenma starts stirring. Even Raimon’s fading questions (they’ve given up on the tenth unanswered one, but they kept asking because they’re _Raimon_ ) die as he opens his eyes and blinks sleepily at them.

“Guys,” Tenma says, smiling from ear to ear. Then, his eyes settle on Naoto, and, somehow, his smile widens. “Naoto!” After a blink, his expression falls, and he mutters, again, “Naoto…”

Naoto hadn’t realised how much he was slouching in his chair until he suddenly straightens up and gains a few inches of height. “Hello,” he says, looking away awkwardly. That gesture, however, lands his gaze on Raimon’s curious eyes, so he averts it again into Tenma’s sad ones.

In the background, Raimon finally, finally quiet. Even if it’s at the cost of one awkward conversation, Naoto’s glad for not having to hear their accusing voices again. Ah, blessed, momentary silence. 

“You’re a SEED,” Tenma says, pursing his lips in disappointment.

Naoto sighs. “Yeah.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

Another, deeper sigh. “Yeah.”

Tenma tilts his head, eyes strangely perceptive as he examines Naoto. He refuses to squirm, and tries to be as honest as possible with his body language. Tenma deserves to know everything, after throwing their relationship down the drain for the sake of a match (even if it was a great match).

“Is,” Tenma says, but stops.

Naoto quirks an eyebrow, and, although he doesn’t really want to hear the entire question, presses. “Is?”

Tenma licks his lips. “Is that why you haven’t been speaking to me?”

Cheeks heating up slightly, Naoto looks at his fingers, entwined together in his lap. He’s never put it in quite so simple terms, but at the end of the day, that’s what happened --- Naoto was a coward and too eager for a match that could have happened within any other means. At the very least, he should have told Tenma about Fifth Sector, but he didn’t, and now he has to suck it up.

“Kinda,” he says, and the truth tastes like lemons. “I’m sorry. About everything.”

“...I forgive you.”

Naoto’s eyes snap up, to Tenma’s - Tenma’s bright smile and kind eyes. Even though he’s still pale from his fainting spell, his cheeks are of a healthy colour, and that maybe means that perhaps Naoto isn’t the only one happy with starting to talk again. For all of his pride and audience, he can’t help it --- he beams until his face hurts. 

“Fist bump?” Naoto says, tentatively extending his arm. 

Tenma nods, cheerfully. “Fist bump!”

They knock their hands together, and it’s the sweetest gesture ever. 

From the corner of his eye, a flash of bright yellow and blue shifts. Naoto has never been unaware of Raimon standing there and listening to their conversation, but he suddenly remembers that he’s not the only important person in Tenma’s life, and stands up from his seat.

“Well,” he says, not bitter, but not cheerful either. He doesn’t really want to go, but Tenma deserves to be with his friends too, “I better get going. I’ll leave your team to fuss over you.”

Slowly, very slowly, he starts making his way to the door. He’s not even halfway there before Raimon starts the round of questions again, this time directed at his poor little brother. Naoto’s back is facing to him, so he can’t see his expression, but going by his flustered tone of voice, it’s not the most pleasant of experiences. 

“Wait,” Raimon’s captain says.

Naoto’s feet stop moving on the doorway. Turns his head to look at the guy in the eyes.

Raimon’s captain doesn’t falter. “Are you his brother?”

Raimon shuts up again. Apparently, it was the question they all were asking but no one was brave enough to ask. Cowards. 

Naoto glances at Tenma --- he won’t say they’re brothers if Tenma doesn’t feel like that anymore, and though he’s forgiven, the feeling may not run as deep as allowing the bond to resurface in its entirety. A refusal will hurt, but that’s better than not taking Tenma’s opinion into account again. 

But Tenma smiles at him, a _go on_ gathered into a gesture, and the remnants of tension leave his shoulders. He glances at Raimon’s captain again.

“Yeah,” Naoto says, and that’s that. “Yeah, we are.” Even though he’s not looking at the entire team, he can feel their comparing eyes drifting between him and Tenma and failing to see any similarities, so he adds, “Not by blood.”

A pause. Then, the smallest one of the team asks, “How?” and flinches, probably realising how noisy and out-of-his-business that question totally is.

Tenma’s eyebrows knit together into an overwhelmed expression. By the wringing of his hands and the quote-unquote sneaky glances he throws at Naoto, it looks like he wants to tell them, but isn’t sure of how to, or even if he should.

And because again, Naoto owes this to him and a lot more, he takes a deep breath, and makes a decision.

“When my mother died,” he begins, smiling ruefully at his little brother’s team, “I wasn’t too surprised…”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! my tumblr is n01101001goi if you want to talk!


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